


GIVING UP

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:07:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another slightly dark story, but with a good ending.  Dean turns to someone to forget...</p>
            </blockquote>





	GIVING UP

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know this is darker than my usual stuff, but sometimes these things come to me on my commute to work.
> 
> For those of you who like my stuff, I've created a FB group page. I'll post my stuff there and you can give me prompts. https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/

He was keeping up a brave front in front of Sam and Cas or at least, he was trying too. After he killed Cain, Dean slept a lot. Cas left again to do more ‘research’. It hurt his heart that Cas and Sam weren’t going to give up on him. He knew it was a lost cause though, fate was going to catch up with him and it’ll all be over. He had Cas’ promise to take him out. Cas wouldn’t let him down. He smiled sadly. Cas. The son of a bitch was out tracking leads again, God knows where this time.

“I’m going out,” Dean told Sam.

“Okay, let me catch a shower real quick.” Sam stood up.

“No, Sam. I just need some time…” At Sam’s concerned look, Dean gave him one of his patented cocky grins. “Don’t worry, I’m just going to go get a drink, shoot some pool, maybe even get laid.”

Sam nodded. “Sure, Dean.”

Dean drove to a dive he’d found right after they found the bunker. It was Dean’s secret place. He’d never brought Sammy here. Some things needed to stay secret and Dean’s stress reliever was one of them. Dean walked into the dim bar, the smell of stale beer, piss and cigarettes made his nose wrinkle. He scanned the room and saw him.

“Well, well, haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” The man was older, on the wrong side of fifty. Still a nice looking man, kept himself in shape with his job at the local lumber mill. He was drinking a beer and at Dean’s nod, the bartender put one in front of him. He took a sip before he spoke.

“Been working.”

The man stood and tossed a few dollars on the bar. “See you there,” he said before he walked out.

Dean finished his beer. They’d played this game before. Dean would give him a head start and then follow. Dean left ten minutes later and headed south for about four miles. The house was in a small neighborhood. As usual, the front door wasn’t locked. Dean opened it and locked it behind him. He threw his jacket over the back of the sofa and strode through the dark house. There was a light in the bedroom. The older man was already undressed, hand stroking his semi-hard cock. Dean stepped closer and let himself be pushed to his knees. He choked and gagged as the man cruelly fucked his mouth. Punishment. Punishment for all the shit he’d done in his life. Punishment for every wrong decision he’d made. Punishment for every person he’d screwed over in his thirty-six years.

With a grunt the man pushed Dean away. “Get undressed.”

He sat on the bed and watched Dean take his clothes off. Dean saw the lust in the man’s eyes. Just lust, no other emotion. This wasn’t about love, hell, it wasn’t even about like. Dean knew love wouldn’t come his way. Oh, sure, he loved. He was even in love, nope, not going there. Not now…not ever. He loved, but that didn’t mean he would ever be on the receiving end.

Dean knew the drill, without being told, he crawled onto the bed. He stayed on his hands and knees because he just didn’t need to see the man. He just needed to feel something, just needed to let himself go without any expectations. He didn’t have any expectations left.

He heard the foil rip and the sound of latex being rolled down a hard cock. He felt the cold gel between the cheeks of his ass. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Willing his body to relax, he waited for the pain…the burn. Hands gripped his hips and the man’s dick pushed against his opening. His body resisted. Another grunt from behind him and there it was…the pain as his body was forced to take the intruding cock. Briefly, Dean wondered what he would be like to be made love to by a man…okay, poor choice of words, Dean Winchester didn’t make love. It was sex, making love…shit, using that stupid word always got you in trouble.

As the man rutted into him, Dean’s cock lengthened. The pain lessened, it always did. He usually got his rocks off…was it satisfying? Maybe…physically, yes… Afterwards, Dean would go home, shower and jerk off under the hot spray, thinking of… No, not going there now, not with another man’s cock up his ass.

Dean tried to clear his head and focus on being fucked until he couldn’t think straight, but unfortunately his mind wandered. He thought back to the first time he’d met Mike. His name was Mike, not that they ever used names. They’d met at the same dive bar right after Dean and Sammy located the bunker and made it their headquarters. The first time was just a quick ‘bend you over’ fuck against the Impala behind the bar. Dean knew Mike was at the bar every weeknight from five to seven, so if Dean needed to lose himself in mindless fucking, he’d show up.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of his phone. They both ignored it. Dean wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked himself. He needed to get off. Behind him, the man’s thrusts became more erratic, a sure sign that he was close to shooting his wad. Dean’s hand moved faster.

“Gonna come.” The man was panting like he’d run a marathon, fingers digging into Dean. There would be bruises, there always were. Dean threw back his head, hand pumping furiously.

“Fuck..fuck…” Dean’s orgasm coursed through him like a live electrical wire, his muscles clinched and thick, wet ribbons of cum covered his stomach and the dirty sheets under him.

“Fuck yeah…” Dean felt the throb of Mike’s cock as he blew his load. The older man pulled out and flopped onto the bed. Dean didn’t wait for his body to come back down. As was his custom, he got out of bed on trembling legs and began to dress. No words were spoken.

The bunker was quiet even though it wasn’t late. He found Sam in the library.

“Back already?” Sam asked, looking up from the thick book he was reading.

“Yeah, nothing happening. Think I’ll just grab a shower and go to bed early.”

“I tried calling you. Cas called looking for you.”

“Batteries must have died.”

***

Sam watched his brother’s back disappear down the hallway. Dean was lying. Sam didn’t know where Dean went, but it wasn’t the first time he’d left the bunker around five and got back before seven or eight. Sam knew the musky smell of sex and Dean reeked from it. Funny how he never picked up on the smell of a woman’s perfume, just sex.

If his brother wanted to bury his problems inside some woman, that was okay with Sam. So, why did he have to lie about it?

Sam settled back to read, but his concentration was shot. He rubbed his face and rolled his tense shoulders. He wished Cas were here. Dean seemed more grounded whenever the angel was around. Sam knew why. He just wished Dean would give in to his feelings for Cas. Cas had been in love with his brother since…well…forever it seemed. Unfortunately, Dean wouldn’t know love if it walked up and threw holy water in his face.

***

Dean turned on the hot water. That’s one thing he loved about having the bunker as their home base. The water was hot and plentiful. He washed the smell of cigarette smoke and sex off of his body and out of his hair. His hand moved over his flaccid dick, thoughts turning to the only person he’d ever been in love with. It didn’t take long…Dean had built up a large bank of fantasies over the years.

He let his head rest back on the tiled wall, hand moving slowly. He loved drawing it out. That dark barn, the sparks flying…Bobby wasn’t in the picture in this particular fantasy. He felt a pang of hurt for the old man who was more like a father to him than... get back on track, Dean. That split second of lightning when two dimensions collided and he saw the outline of those wings. Dean felt the electrical charge pulsing…in Dean’s mind, the angel pressed him against the wall, taking his mouth…hand cupping his aching cock roughly.

“Cas.” A soft hiccup of breath…Dean sank to his knees and let the water wash away any trace of his orgasm. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, but finally his knees protested and he hauled himself to his feet.

Later, lying in his soft bed, Dean stared into the darkness. How could one solitary event fuck up his entire life? Mary Winchester…she was his mom…she kept him safe. Their lives would have been so different. She would have loved Cas…the tears slid down his face, wetting the pillow.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean sat bolt upright, scrubbing the tears off with the heel of his hand. “What the fuck, Cas? It’s the middle of the night…”

“It’s only ten, Dean.”

“What do you want?”

Cas didn’t speak. With a flip of his wrist the lamp on Dean’s nightstand came on, temporarily blinding Dean.

“Dude, really?” Dean looked everywhere but at Cas because he knew Cas would see his red-rimmed eyes and start asking questions.

Cas sat down at the end of Dean’s bed. Funny, Cas wasn’t meeting his eyes either. That, in itself, freaked Dean out. The silence lengthened. Dean was starting to get antsy.

“Does he satisfy your needs?”

Dean was honestly lost. “Huh? Who?”

“The man from the bar. The man you have sex with.”

Dean’s world imploded. He couldn’t breathe. His heart hurt and he felt like he might pass out. His fingers clutched at the blanket that covered the lower half of his body. He let out a laugh, one he thought would sound normal, instead it was laced his hysteria.  
“Have you been smoking weed or something, Dude? Because I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Dean Winchester doesn’t have sex with men…no homo, man.”

Cas did turn around then and Dean thought he looked sad. “I was looking for you this evening. You weren’t here, so I located you with my…”

“What? You have a tracking device on me or something?” Dean was pissed and mortified. Cas couldn’t know about…his other life.

“Dean, all I have to do is think of you and I can locate you.”

Dean threw back the blankets and stood up, forgetting that he was only in his black boxer briefs. “My private life is my…private…life. You have no right to ‘locate’ me. No right.”

“You are correct, Dean. Your private life is none of my business. When you lo….care for someone, you want their happiness above all else. Sam and I are worried about you and…”

“Stop it, Cas. Stop worrying. Stop wasting time trying to fix this.” Dean held his arm out, the mark prominent on his arm. “You can’t fix it. You can’t fix me.”

Cas lowered his gaze to study his hands. “I will never stop worrying about you, Dean. And I will never give up trying to help you. Never.”

“Cas…” Dean sat back down on the bed, feeling defeated. The sound of silence filled the room.

“You never answered my question, Dean.”

Dean hung his head, elbows on his knees, suddenly very tired. “What question?”

“Does he satisfy your needs?”

Dean choked off a sob. He couldn’t catch a break. Nothing ever went right in his life. “He…he gives me what I need.”

“And what is that, Dean.”

Huffing out a bark of hysterical laughter, Dean confessed. “He gives me a fast, hard fuck and for a few seconds, I can forget that my life sucks. I can forget I’ve been a fuckup for my whole fucking life.”

Dean forgot how fast angels could move. He was flat on his back, arms held by strong hands, Cas’ face inches from his own, Cas’ body covering his. “A few seconds…that’s all? You can’t forget your life sucks or that you’re a fuckup because it’s not true. He can’t make your forget, Dean. If you need to forget this,” Cas holds up Dean’s arm, forcing Dean to look at the mark, “...I could make you...

As quickly as he was on Dean, he was off, standing next to the bed, looking down at Dean. “I could have…” Cas stopped and was gone.

Dean growled and swept his arm across his nightstand, sending the lamp, several books and his cell phone flying across the room. The lamp broke, sending the room into darkness once again.

His door was flung open and the overhead light came on. Sam stood in the doorway. “You okay? What’s going on?”

Dean watched as Sam took in the broken lamp and the scattered books.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

“Cas was here.”

“And?”

“He knows what a loser I am now, Sammy. Maybe he’s always known.”

“Cas knows you aren’t a loser. Cas knows who you really are, Dean. And he loves you anyway.”

“No, Sam. He can’t love me…he knows…he found out…” Dean’s voice hitched and he turned his back on his brother. He learned a long time about not to ask the question, ‘What else can go wrong?’, because more shit went wrong. Dean wished Cain would have killed him instead of the other way around.

“He found out what, Dean?” Sam’s voice was soft and damn it, Sam sounded so freakin’ understanding. Just wait until he found out about his brother’s secret. His macho straight brother is a fuckin’ closet fag. And not just that, he lets himself get used by a man old enough to be his father. Boy, wouldn’t a psychiatrist have a field day with that tidbit of information.

“Dean?”

Dean turned to look at his brother and only saw compassion and love there. Sammy loved him, but he would never be able to look him in the eye again.

“Sammy, I can’t tell you. You’ll hate me and I can’t… I’m not sure how much time I have left and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Dean, you’ll never lose me.”

“I can’t…” Dean hung his head. Sam came closer and took him in his arms. Sam hugged him tightly but he didn’t ask any more questions.

***

Castiel stared at the house just south of town. The man was inside. Jealousy was no reason to take a life, but Castiel almost shook with the human emotion. He stood and he watched, mind wandering back to his conversation with Dean. He almost slipped and told Dean he loved him. Almost ruined their friendship. Having Dean on the bed, under him, holding him…Castiel had wanted to kiss him. Kissing was a human way to show love and affection…a simple meeting of the lips. So, why did Castiel crave it so?  
The next night, he went to the bar. He saw the man sitting on a stool near the pool tables, drinking a beer. What did he have that Dean found so… he turned and left.

He should be out in the world searching for a way to help his…to help Dean. Instead, he was in a purgatory of his own making.

***

His life already ruined beyond recognition, Dean left the bunker and returned to the same bar. He walked in and saw him. In their whole history, Dean never did more than one night a month, usually less than that. Here he was, two nights in a row.

“Ready for more of my dick already?” The older man smirked at him and it made Dean’s stomach turn.

Instead of answering, Dean just nodded, not making eye contact.

“I’ll see you there.” Dean watched him leave. He walked to the bar and asked for a shot of tequila. Then another. With his liquid courage, Dean left the bar.

“Dean.”

No…no, not now. Dean stopped walking and turned. “Cas…still following me, I see. Haven’t learned your lesson yet?”

“If you feel the need to be…” Cas stopped and Dean thought the angel looked horrified. Of course, he did. Dean was letting a man fuck his ass. The angel was probably wanting to smite him. Wasn’t he an abomination?

“Dean, I can’t…why can’t you love me…I thought it was because I was a man and you…you liked females, but now…why Dean…why can’t you love me?”

Dean shook his head. He only had two shots…only two. Why was his brain playing tricks on him? Just another way for the universe to fuck with Dean Winchester.

“Cas…”

“Dean, I need you.”

Fuck. Cas just threw his words back at him. All those years ago…Naomi in Cas’ head, fucking with him. Dean told him his feelings in the only way he knew how, hand gripping that stupid trench coat like a lifeline.

“Cas, man, I’m not worth it. You’re a fuckin’ angel and I’m just…just…”

“The man I love.” Cas’ raspy voice, the voice that played a starring role in many of Dean’s fantasies, wasn’t making sense. Dean couldn’t wrap his head around it. His eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the world, were staring at him. Sam called it eye fucking, he said it meant something when two people stared at each other like that.

“You can’t mean that.” Dean whispered.

Cas stepped forward and Dean felt drawn to him like a moth to flame…knowing in his heart that he was going to get burned. Knowing Cas couldn’t love someone like him.

For someone who didn’t have a lot of experience in kissing, Cas was giving it his all. Dean backed away, dizzy.

“I want to please you.” Cas looked humble. Crazy, when Dean was the one who felt humbled.

Dean reached up and ran his forefinger across the dark stubble and allowed himself to wonder what it would feel like against his thighs.

“Let’s go home.”

***

Dean had been fucked by a man. What they did that night wasn’t even in the same realm. The sun was coming up before they even got past the touching and kissing stage. So, this was making love. Dean could handle this. He could handle this for the rest of his life. And if his life needed to end tomorrow, his angel promised him…


End file.
